I awoke in pain. Roped. Gagged. Hogtied.
The first thing I registered was the hammering in my skull, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Blood had dried in a sticky patch above my left eye. My arms, wrenched behind my back, had gone numb hours ago. The rough hemp ropes bit into my wrists, ankles, and throat, the fibers catching on my raw skin with every desperate twist.
Rain lashed the tin roof of the old barn, the thunderous drumming nearly drowning out the voices of my captors somewhere outside. Water dripped through countless leaks in the ceiling, forming puddles on the dirt floor. One steady stream had soaked through my jeans, the cold water seeping into my bones as night fell and the temperature plummeted.
I tried to shift away from the growing puddle beneath me, but the movement sent fresh fire racing through my bruised ribs. Those bastards had known exactly where to hit—enough to incapacitate without doing permanent damage. After all, damaged goods wouldn't fetch the million-dollar ransom they'd demanded from my father.
The barn doors rattled against their hinges as wind howled through the cracks in the weathered wood. Dust and hay swirled in the faint moonlight filtering through the gaps. The storm was getting worse, and I was exposed to the elements on the bare floor, already shivering uncontrollably.
I had to get free before hypothermia set in. Before they returned.
My fingers, though numb and clumsy, found a nail protruding from one of the floor boards behind me. Hope flared for the first time since I'd regained consciousness.I worked the nail back and forth, feeling it loosen with each twist. My shoulders screamed in protest as I contorted my body to maintain my grip. A violent cough racked my chest—the hours spent in the damp had taken their toll. I bit down on the filthy gag to keep from making noise.
The storm intensified, wind shrieking through the barn's skeletal frame. A sudden gust tore a section of the roof free, sending a corrugated metal sheet clattering into the night. Rain now poured directly onto my legs, the icy water pooling around my body. My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Finally, the nail came free. Clutching it between my frozen fingers, I began sawing at the ropes binding my wrists. The work was agonizingly slow—my hands so numb I could barely feel them, let alone control them with any precision. Twice the nail slipped, jabbing deep into my palm. I hardly noticed the fresh blood mixing with the rainwater beneath me.
A flash of lightning illuminated the barn's interior, revealing rows of ancient farm equipment and stacks of moldering hay bales. In that brief moment of clarity, I spotted something I hadn't seen before—a rusted sickle hanging on the wall just ten feet away. If I could reach it...
The sudden roar of an engine outside froze me mid-motion. Headlights swept across the barn walls as a vehicle approached. My captors were returning, probably seeking shelter from the storm.
I redoubled my efforts on the rope, desperation lending strength to my frozen limbs. The first strand began to fray. Then another. The nail sliced through the wet hemp with surprising efficiency now that I'd found the right angle.
The vehicle doors slammed. Voices approached, barely audible over the pounding rain. I had seconds, not minutes.
With a final, desperate sawing motion, the rope around my wrists gave way.I worked the nail back and forth, feeling it loosen with each twist. My shoulders screamed in protest as I contorted my body to maintain my grip. A violent cough racked my chest—the hours spent in the damp had taken their toll. I bit down on the filthy gag to keep from making noise.
The storm intensified, wind shrieking through the barn's skeletal frame. A sudden gust tore a section of the roof free, sending a corrugated metal sheet clattering into the night. Rain now poured directly onto my legs, the icy water pooling around my body. My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
Finally, the nail came free. Clutching it between my frozen fingers, I began sawing at the ropes binding my wrists. The work was agonizingly slow—my hands so numb I could barely feel them, let alone control them with any precision. Twice the nail slipped, jabbing deep into my palm. I hardly noticed the fresh blood mixing with the rainwater beneath me.
A flash of lightning illuminated the barn's interior, revealing rows of ancient farm equipment and stacks of moldering hay bales. In that brief moment of clarity, I spotted something I hadn't seen before—a rusted sickle hanging on the wall just ten feet away. If I could reach it...
The sudden roar of an engine outside froze me mid-motion. Headlights swept across the barn walls as a vehicle approached. My captors were returning, probably seeking shelter from the storm.
I redoubled my efforts on the rope, desperation lending strength to my frozen limbs. The first strand began to fray. Then another. The nail sliced through the wet hemp with surprising efficiency now that I'd found the right angle.
The vehicle doors slammed. Voices approached, barely audible over the pounding rain. I had seconds, not minutes.
With a final, desperate sawing motion, the rope around my wrists gave wayFreedom lasted mere seconds.
I had just begun clawing at the ropes around my ankles when the barn door crashed open. A blinding flashlight beam caught me mid-escape, followed by a string of curses. The larger of my two captors—the one with the cauliflower ear and scarred knuckles—crossed the distance in three strides.
"Thought you'd pull a disappearing act, cowboy?" His boot connected with my ribs, sending me sprawling back into the mud. The nail, my one precious tool, disappeared into the muck.
The second kidnapper circled behind me. "Looks like our boy's got more fight than we gave him credit for."
I thrashed wildly, my one free hand clawing at anything within reach, but it was useless. Cauliflower Ear pinned me face-down in the puddle, his knee driving into my spine while his partner secured fresh ropes around my wrists—these plastic zip ties, far more secure than the hemp.
"Water's rising," the second man observed, toeing the growing pool beneath me. "Storm's flooding the low ground."
"Let him get wet," Cauliflower Ear grunted, yanking me roughly to my feet. "He's caused enough trouble."
They dragged me to the back of the barn and secured me to a support beam, this time with my arms stretched painfully above my head. The position forced me to stand, my legs already trembling with exhaustion. If I slumped, the zip ties would cut off circulation to my hands entirely.
"Try that again," Cauliflower Ear hissed in my ear, "and we start sending pieces of you to daddy instead of ransom notes." He patted my cheek with mock affection before stepping back to admire his handiwork.
The water had already reached my ankles, frigid and rising steadily as the rain continued its relentless assault. By morning, I calculated grimly, it would reach my knees. By noon...
I closed my eyes, conserving what little strength remained. I'd failed this time. But they'd revealed something important—they needed me alive and mostly intact. And now I knew exactly where they kept the bolt cutters I'd glimpsed hanging from the second man's belt.
I just had to survive the night. And the flood.
No comments:
Post a Comment